As far back as I can remember, place has been important to me. The house was a given and in those earliest years didn't register nearly as strongly as the yard. The yard was adventure, excitement. Wonder. My father's store. The big wisteria vine on its iron pipe frame that shielded the front porch from the western sun. The old store across the highway: was it already then a black church or did that come later? The fence around the yard that kept me safe. The house. The yard. The store. Sawyerville and environs. Greensboro, where I went to church and to school. Hale County. Oh, I could continue on in Wilderian fashion through the Universe to the Mind of God. But let's stop, at least for now, with the county as boundary.Over time I hope to post more chapters here about places therein and my reaction to them. I'm in no rush. Hope you are not either. Just rest your cursor on the PLACES tab to see how far I have managed to get.